Like he did with my mother. I won’t let that happen to anyone again.
Hawk
I am not going crazy. Something is seriously up with Lo, and I intend to find out what the hell it is.
She’s out the front doors before I can stop her. At the bar, Jonus is catching up on drink orders. He’s late for shift, again, but I don’t give a fuck about that right now. I step behind the bar and begin filling orders alongside him.
“I’ll have it caught up in a sec, boss,” he says.
I don’t answer. I don’t care about the damn drinks. I just want a second alone with him to find out what he knows about Lo. Once we have the orders under control, I pull him over to the side and start the inquisition.
“Did you know we missed Lo’s birthday?”
Jonus’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “No. I thought it was in August.”
“I did too. What about her family or friends? Anyone new been hanging around your place? Has she talked about anyone giving her trouble?”
Another head shake, this time with a grimace. “She’s been aloof lately. She sticks to home and work, but that’s Lo. Nothing new there.”
I need something more to go on. “Any reason she’d be jumpy? Who was that card from that she had in her hands just now?”
Jonus swallows hard. “I haven’t noticed anything. Should I have?”
When I don’t respond, he goes on to my second question.
“Someone from Kentucky. I figured it was from her mom or someone back home. Why?”
“No reason,” I tell him. “You’re locking up tonight. Leave the till for tomorrow.” The last thing I need right now is one of my employees jumped while taking the night’s payout to the bank.
Jonus nods and when I step away, he’s back to filling mugs, though I feel him watching me. I’m sure the second I walk out the door, he’ll text Lo. He’ll warn her I’m coming. I don’t give a shit about that. I’m going to find out once and for all what has her on edge. Even if it pushes her further away from me.
I could take my bike the eight blocks to Lo’s apartment, but I’m afraid I’ll pass her on the way. Besides, I need the walk to cool my temper. If someone is messing with her, I’m going to take care of it.
I’m going to take care of her.
I reach their apartment calmer than when I left the restaurant, but I’m still on high alert. I don’t like when my employees keep secrets from me, especially when it’s Lo. When I knock on the front door, it creaks open. It’s not locked, and the handle hasn’t engaged.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. They all should know better than to leave their doors open. I knock again, but since the door is already open, I invite myself in. The place is quiet and dark, except for a stream of light coming from under a door in the hallway.
I call Lo’s name and walk slowly, listening for her reaction, but I hear nothing. My heart jumps up to my throat. She’s better be in there and she better be okay. If something happened to her, I’ll never forgive myself for letting her walk out of the restaurant alone.
The handle turns when I try it, and the door opens. Lo is standing over her bed throwing clothes into a duffle bag and crying. She’s moving so quickly from the closet to the bed, I don’t have a choice but to catch her by the arm to stop her. When I do, Lo turns to me, her mouth open, her eyes blank. I don’t see the left jab coming until it’s too late, and she lands her fist along my cheek hard enough to make me release her.
I’ve taken my fair share of hard hits before, and some have been from women, but I’ve never felt the amount of power Lo put into her punch before. My whole face jerks to the side and I lose sight of her for a second. It’s all the time she needs to grab her bag and make a run for the door.
“Lo,” I yell, stalking in her direction in long strides. She’s fast, but I’m on a mission and I catch up to her in time to slam the front door shut with one hand, pinning her between me and the closed off exit. “Lo.” I breathe her name on an exhausted breath. “What the hell is going on?”
She doesn't turn to me but lowers her head instead. She’s still holding her duffle bag as if she’s going to somehow magically get the door open and make a run for it. I need more security than that. I reach up for the latch and lock the door before I use both hands to turn her around to face me.
Her cheeks are tear stained and her eyes are red. She’s looking down, even when I lift her chin with my finger.
“Lo. Answer me. What the hell are you so damn afraid of?”
“Nothing,” she mutters before she twists her head away from me and looks at the ground again.
I’m not sure what I’ve done to make her distrust me, but it’s fucking killing me inside. I can’t stand feeling helpless while she stands in front of me holding back tears and shaking as if I’m what is making her so afraid.
I try another approach, hoping it’ll lessen the fight-or-flight response I know her body is locked in. I step away, giving her room to leave if she wants to. “Fine. You don’t want my help? I’m not going to force you to take it. But I know something is up with you, and I’m betting it has to do with your past.”
“Hawk, I—” She starts then stops just as suddenly. “I can’t. I should have told you sooner, but I just…”
“Just what?” I’m almost yelling. I want her to tell me what’s wrong so damn bad. I lift her chin up to look at me again and this time she does. “Lo, I told you when you started working for me, your problems are my problems. Tell me what’s wrong and we can fix it together. Keep it to yourself and there is nothing I can do to help you.”
“I know,” she whispers. She lets her bag drop into my hands, which is a good sign that I’m getting through.
“Then come sit down here and tell me what’s going on.”
“You have enough on your plate already,” she answers. I watch her body coil back up, ready to try for the door the second she feels me back off. “I can deal with this on my own.”
“I’m sure you can.” I take her bag and move it away from her, hopefully making her think twice about making a run for it. “Your right hook is something else. But you don’t have to.”
When she doesn't respond, I take her by the hand and notice when she jumps. Her knuckles are red and she’s holding her fingers together.
“Damn, Lo. We need to get some ice on this hand.”
I’m afraid if I let her go, she’ll run for the door, so I take her into the kitchen with me. I find a towel hanging on the oven handle and I fill it with ice. Once I have her settled on the couch, I hold her swollen hand in mine and lightly lay the ice on top.
She makes a hissing noise at first, but soon settles.
“I’m in a little trouble,” she says once she takes the ice back from me. “I don’t want to get you or Camila or Jonus involved.”
I pat her knee. “I’m already involved.”
“I wanted to tell you yesterday, but when I saw you with Camila, I chickened out.”
“This is what the text was about?” Fuck. She’s been worried over something big enough to make her want to run away from home and she’s been holding on to it for two days. “You should have just told me, Lo.”